"The subaltern who was waiting for us to relieve your battery, sir."

"The battery commander wasn't here then?"

"No, sir. I believe he'd gone on ahead to the waggon lines."

"I'm exceedingly sorry this has happened," said the other colonel, turning to our colonel. "I'll have the battery commander and the other officer up here at once, and they can go forward with your officer when he registers the guns again. It's disgraceful. I'll stop their next leave for this." He disappeared into the battery telephone pit to send through orders for the calling of the delinquent officers.

re

"Not a bad idea to make an inspection round the day after you have handed over," remarked our colonel to me drily. "This is rather an instructive example."

These were our last days of waiting and wondering whether the Boohe would attack; of the artillery duels and the minor raids by which each side sought to feel and test the other's strength. I recall two or three further incidents of our stay in that part of the line. The G.O.C., R.A., of Corps decided that & rare opportunity presented itself for training junior officers in quick picking up of targets, shooting over open sights, and voice - command of batteries from near sighting - places where telephone wires could be dispensed with and orders shouted through a megaphone,

"It will quite likely come to that," he observed. "The next fighting will be of the real open warfare type, and the value of almost mechanical acquaintance with drill is that the officer possessing such knowledge can use all his spare brains to deal with the changing phases of the actual battle." So a single 18-pdr. used to be pulled out for practice purposes, and generals and infantry officers used to come to see gunner subalterns schooled and tested. It was better practice than Shoeburyness or Larkhill, because though the shoots were carried out on the gunnery school model the shells were directed at real targets. During one series a distinguished red-tabbed party was dispersed because the Hun did an area strafe in front, behind, and around the single gun. Another time the descent of an 8-inch saved the amour propre of a worried second lieutenant, who, after jockeying with his angle of sight, had got into abject difficulties with his range and correction.

One morning I was up forward carrying out instructions to keep in daily touch with the infantry battalions, finding out their requirements, and discovering what new artillery targets they could suggest. As it was also my business to know what the Heavies were doing, I stopped at an O.P. in trench to ask a very young R.G.A. officer observing for a 6inoh how. such questions as what he had fired upon that

morning, and whether he had noted any fresh Boche movement. I had passed along the winding trench and descended the dug-out headquarters of one of our infantry battalions, and was inquiring if the commanding officer had any suggestions or complaints to make, when the boyish R.G.A. officer came down the steps and, not noticing me in the dim candlelight, asked in hurried tones: "Excuse me, sir, but could you identify an artillery officer who said he was coming here. He stopped and asked me some extraordinary questions and" hesitatingly have to be careful talking to people in the front line."

...

"you

The adjutant and the intelligence officer of the infantry battalion were smiling broadly. Finally the colonel had to laugh. "Yes," he said, "I can identify the artillery officer.

Here he is. You haven't disoovered a spy this time."

The young officer looked abashed, and when later I passed his "O.P.," apologised with much sincerity. I replied by asking him to have a good look at me, so that he wouldn't mistake me next time we met. After which we both laughed. We did meet again, not long afterwards, and in much more exciting circumstances.

When the brigade left that part of the line Marshal Foch had begun his momentous counter-effort between Soissons and Château-Thierry. In a very short time we also were to be engaged in a swift and eventful movement that changed the whole tenor of the war: a time of hard, ceaseless fighting, countless episodes of hereism and sacrifice, and vivid, conquering achievement.

66

at instruction was filled by a retired captain. This officer was of no great age, though fate and the Admiralty had sent him to this job ashore. He let us 800 that there was going to be no change. To employ a popular phrase, "he shook us to the oere." However, before things really settled down there were some comic scenes. Most of these ooourred at "divisions," or parade, in the morning. For this performance each term falls in, is inspected by an officer, reported present to the Commander, manoeuvred into position for prayers, and afterwards marched away to the work of the day. At Osborne we were rather proud of our marching. Indeed, the two sights which were said to impress the visitors most were our method of dancing the lancers on Saturday night and our wonderful marching at Sunday_divisions divisions (a super affair). The latter was carried out in packed formation, and when in file the chest of one cadet touched the back of his next ahead, whilst our ooncerted tread shook the floor. Consequently, if something went wrong with the works, such as a wrong order, this famous scene would be rapidly transformed into & fair representation of the former. On one occasion a master gave an order to his term of "One pace forward, maroh." This was all right, but being dissatisfied with his new position, he gave the order, "Take another." The effect on the ranks was a gentle

ripple.

Still this era soon passed, and in a couple of weeks one would have thought that all the masters were retired sergeant-majors.

Work took on a pretty serious tone as well. Of course, at all times in a naval college the authorities take a very close personal interest in the quantity and quality of your work. If they think that they are not getting their money's worth, they warn you to try harder. If you do not improve, out you go to a hard and bitter world to explain to your people that you think a naval life will not suit your delicate constitution, and to seek employment elsewhere. Now they said to themselves, "War is war," and proceeded to pile on a good bit extra so that we might be got ready for sea in as short a time as possible. Most of the extra work was interesting and a great deal of it practical, so the hardship was not so great.

That term passed fairly quickly and without incident. After thirteen days' leave at Christmas, instead of the usual four weeks, we joined the R.N.C., Dartmouth, on New Year's Day 1915. Here we found ourselves under a lieutenant who had retired before the war, but had joined up again. However, his remembranoe of Service manners and customs and their application was by no means hazy. It was said that he could perform a very diffioult feat. He would place a cushion on the back of & chair, chalk light cane

and hit that oushion after the style of a certain rite, which I believe is still in existence at some of our best schools even in this cultured age, and whose origin is a misguided remark by King Solomon. If you examined that oushion carefully, it was said that after half a dozen strokes you could only see one mark. I may say that I have no firsthand evidence, and that Isteered clear of that cane. If any one who reads this is of a nervous disposition or is likely to meet this "ogre," I may also say that during the whole time we were under his charge only three people felt that stick, and that he kept us in rattling good order by sheer personality.

In addition to this he was a physical training fiend, and paid us the compliment of devoting a great deal of his attention to us. I cannot say that we were properly appreciative, though the Captain used to bring his guests to see our class give an exhibition of arm raising and knee bending, &o. Still, it made us very strong, and as a direct result we walked away with nearly every oup there was to be had. It also helped to keep us remarkably fit, for the work oraze grew more popular term by term.

The term senior to us left during our second term at the College, and after envious glances at these lucky people with their midshipmen's patches, we turned to with our work, for we would be the next to go. That the authorities fully realised this we had

no reason to doubt. They out down general education to a minimum, and piled on specialist knowledge. It was fairly hard, but not too bad. Also our leave was not stinted, for, after the curtailed Christmas leave, we got our full allow

ances.

Our

Of course, the question every one was asking was, "When are we going to sea?" Many and varied were the theories, rumours, and "authenticated news" on the subject. pessimists said "not till after the war." Even our optimists said "in a year or so." It came as splendid news, therefore, when, at the beginning of our third term, we were told that this would be our last term at the College. Mr

Shieve's representative came in for a hot time when he visited the College. Queues used to wait on him to order new uniforms, try on ditto, order new oaps (for midshipmen wear different shaped cap to cadets), and endless other gear.

Finally came the passingout examinations. These are a horrible three days' nightmare on which the seniority is based, and on which much depends. For instance, I am now entitled to get into a boat after and get out of a boat before one of my term mates in this ship, all because I was two places higher in the passing-out list. Our gunrooms were strangely silent during the intervals, for, instead of playing the ass, people were furtively oramming themselves with eleventh hour